


Drabble Collection

by eidheann



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Auror Partners, Aurors, Deepthroating, Dialogue-Only, Drabble Collection, Draco works for Percy Weasley, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pining, Rimming, Truth or Dare, alcohol was involved in several of these, also blowjobs, more blowjobs, post—hogwarts, the girls are plotting against them, unrelated drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eidheann/pseuds/eidheann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unrelated unbeta'd drabbles. Some are gifts, some prompt fills. None have anything to do with any others, and run the gamut from silly to steamy, 8th year to post-Hogwarts. Basically me just getting all my drabbles in the same spot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Valentine's Day (for Icicle33)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [capitu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitu/gifts), [Icicle33 (Icicle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icicle/gifts), [Queenie_Mab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Mab/gifts), [tamlane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/gifts), [Omi_Ohmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omi_Ohmy/gifts), [Oakstone730](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakstone730/gifts), [Iwao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwao/gifts).



> Prompts for HP Harlequin 2013 Comment Fest and personal glomps to friends.
> 
> Disclaimer: They're not mine. They belong to someone else. This is for fun not profit, etc.

**HP Harlequin - First Valentine's Day  
For: icicle33**

 

"Er..."  
"Too much?"  
"Um, well..."  
"It is, isn't it?"  
"It's... uh..."  
"I hit all the shops. You were complaining about Valentine's Day and..."  
"Well, I..."  
"And I know you really wanted something special."  
"Yes, but..."  
"But I screwed up, didn't I?"  
"What? No, it's just..."  
"I saw it in a magazine! Candles, chocolate, champagne..."  
"And that?"  
"Well, I thought..."  
"You thought...? What?"  
"I thought.... that... maybeyoucouldtiemeup..."  
"Yes, I gathered that. But what about that?"  
"That?"  
"THAT."  
"Um..."  
"You cannot seriously expect me to..."  
"What? Oh. I was... thinking..."  
"Thinking what?"  
"Well, with the chocolates, and the champagne..."  
"I'm listening..."  
"Light the candles..."  
"Mmmm... I mean go on."  
"We could feed each other chocolates..."  
"Yess..."  
"That's made of chocolate, too, you know."  
"..."  
"Harry?"  
"..."  
"Um, Harry?"  
"On the bed."  
"What?"  
"You. Bed. Down. Now."  
"But what about--"  
"You brought home a chocolate dildo the size of a hippogriff. I think I'm the only one who's going to be eating chocolate tonight."  
"Ack! Oh.... mmmmmm...."


	2. Disillusion (for Queenie_Mab)

**HP Harlequin - Disillusion  
for: Queenie Mab**

 

"Draco, truth or dare?"

Draco groaned and took another drink of the firewhisky in front of him at the common room table. "I told you I wasn't interested in playing..."

Pansy bumped his shoulder. "You're sitting here drinking with us. Least you can do is answer Blaise's question."

Draco glanced around the table. The eighth year common room was filled with lounging former members of all the Hogwarts houses, all looking happy and more than a bit tipsy. And all looking expectantly at him. He finally huffed a sigh. "I hate you, Blaise. Dare."

Blaise waggled his eyebrows and took a sip of his own drink. "Snape taught you Disillusionment, didn't he?"

"Wouldn't answering that count as truth and negate the dare?"

Blaise's laugh was louder than normal, never a good sign. "True, true. So, I dare you..." Blaise's eyes darted around the room, before his grin turned to a more wicked smirk. "Oral sex. In public."

The common room erupted in laughter, and Weasley spat out the mouthful of firewhisky in his mouth at Blaise's words. "What?"

Draco would have laughed at the gaping expression had he not been certain it matched his own. "Wait, what?"

Blaise was now giggling. "Disillusion yourself, or hide, or something. Oral sex with someone at this table in public."

Draco's eyes darted around the room as he tried to quash his own feelings of panic. "Public?"

Blaise nodded. "Great Hall, Library, class...."

Granger interrupted Blaise's suggestions. "I don't think--"

"Oh come on! Who here wouldn't want Draco Malfoy going down on them?"

Draco didn't even look, his face was buried in his hands as he debated the best way to get away with murdering his supposed best friend.

o.o.o

"I hate you."

Blaise turned over in his bed to peer through the darkness at Draco. "What?"

"Oral sex? In Public? What the hell are you thinking?"

"That you need to get laid? And if you notice, Potter looked... intrigued."

"Oh Merlin, is that what--"

"Come off it. You two have been dancing around each other since the start of term. It's only a matter of time."

"Only a matter of time until what?" Draco paused, then frowned fiercely at his friend. "This is Finnigan isn't it? There's some sort of money riding on this...?"

Blaise laughed. "Of course, lots. Who you'll choose, when you'll do it--"

"On me and Potter?"

Blaise's voice became even more amused. "Oh, that's long odds. No one seems to think the two of you will pull your heads out of your collective arses until after Hogwarts."

"And when's your money on?"

"This week."

"This WEEK?"

"Why do you think we started playing truth or dare last night?"

At least the sound of the pillow striking Blaise in the face was somewhat satisfying.

o.o.o

"So when are you going to do it?"

Draco frowned up at Pansy, mind still half on the translation he was in the middle of for Ancient Runes. "Do what?"

"Suck Potter's cock?"

He let his head fall and hit the table. "When is your money on?"

"Blaise told you? He's such a bitch. Tuesday."

"Today's Tuesday..."

Pansy patted the back of his head, her voice going syrupy sweet in an instant. "That's why I'm trying to move things along."

"I need new friends."

"Yes, dear. Now go run along, Potter's just come into the library. Go make me a nice handful of Galleons."

"Go suck him yourself."

"No need to be rude."

Draco glanced briefly up at Pansy before letting his head fall once again.

o.o.o

He couldn't believe he was doing this. McGonagall had just finished the evening announcements, and he was hiding under the 8th year table, disillusioned to his eyeballs, and waiting on the normal dinner ruckus to start and cover what he was about to do. It had been two weeks to the day since he'd accepted the stupid dare, long enough for the dirty looks of his friends to begin to fade, and he'd begged off dinner this evening with a headache.

Not that his head wasn't pounding, but the familiar scuffed trainers in front of him were proving a sufficient distraction. He'd thought about finding someone else to use to meet the conditions of the dare just for spite, but from what he'd seen when he snuck a peek at Finnigan's odds lead him to believe the entire school thought he'd pick anyone but Potter. So he'd picked today, a day only one person seemed to have money on. He had no idea who 17 was, but they were about to make themselves a pretty tidy pile.

Just then, the familiar sounds of dinner erupted around him, making him jump. He waited until he heard Weasley and Granger talking before reaching out a tentative hand and letting it glide up the leg before him, pushing up the robes as he went. A familiar tanned hand suddenly clenched the bench when the figure startled.

"You alright, Harry?" Weasley sounded like he had half the food on his plate stuffed into his mouth, and Draco grimaced, glad the table was between him and the inevitable spray.

"Fine, Ron." Harry's voice sounded strangled, and Draco smirked to himself as he deftly began to work the button on his flies.

"You sure, mate? You look a bit flushed."

An awkward cough, then again he replied. "Fine. Fine. Totally fine."

Draco dropped his head briefly to Harry's knee while he tried to keep the laughter from bubbling over, though he was certain Harry knew he was laughing. His impression was confirmed when he felt a flick to the top of his head, and he frowned, tugging sharply on the trousers he was still holding and making Harry shift awkwardly in his seat when he pulled them down to his thighs.

He tried to not think about how attractive he suddenly found white cotton Y-fronts, especially when they were tented around an impressive bulge. Instead, he concentrated on carefully tugging the waistband, pulling it away and letting Harry's cock spring free. Harry shifted again, and he pulled the pants down as well.

He spent a moment simply watching, the sounds of dinner long since faded to an indistinct buzzing. He knew if he moved forward, things could change. For all that Blaise and Pansy teased him for his little crush on Harry, he was afraid of it being much more than that. And even if Harry's cock was obviously interested in the proceedings, he'd done nothing to indicate he felt anything toward Draco at all.

He didn't know what was worse, the thought that Harry was interested, or that he wasn't.

 

Giving an irritated shrug, he pushed those thoughts away. He couldn't do anything about it, and the fact he actually had this chance was too good to pass up. He took a deep breath and double-checked his disillusionment, before leaning forward and kitten-licking the drop of moisture from the tip of Harry's cock, savoring the salty bitterness of it and mentally smirking at the sudden cough above his head.

"Are you sure you're alright, Harry?" This time it was Granger's voice which responded to Harry's evident distress, and Draco quickly suckled the cockhead into his mouth before Harry had the chance to reply.

"Fine." Harry's voice was remarkably steady this time, and he seemed focused on making as much noise with his fork on his plate as he could. "Just a bit of a headache, test in Potions tomorrow."

Granger seemed to take this as her cue to start lecturing Harry on his study habits. Draco knew this meant both Weasley and Harry was expected to stare blankly at her, at their food, and nod occasionally with no other active participation needed, so he set to work, pulling off and running his tongue around the crown and flicking it down the thick vein before running it back up and swallowing him in earnest.

He was beginning to settle into a slow rhythm, down, running his tongue around as much of the prick as he could manage, up with a hard suck, when he felt a tentative hand reach out and gently caress his hair. It was unexpected and he pulled off briefly to glance up. The hand slipped down and the thumb gently brushed across his cheek, and he heard Granger still talking about... something. He didn't think when the hand wrapped back around his head and gently tugged him towards the cock in front of him, simply swallowing it again with a quiet moan that caused the fingers moving back to his hair to clench briefly and Harry's hips to rock slightly.

He gave up on technique then, holding the cock steady, swallowing as much as he could. It was too good, and too much something he'd never thought he'd get the chance to do. He knew he was holding too tight, sucking too hard, it was going to be over too quickly, but he wanted it; he wanted it, wanted to feel Harry explode in his mouth, to know it was for him. His world narrowed to the heavy feeling of the cock on his tongue, the steady flow of salty bitterness in his mouth, the feeling of fingers wrapped in his hair almost too tight. He could feel Harry's bollocks drawing up, and he had an instant to wish he could see his face before he felt the first pulse of Harry's cock on his tongue, and he pulled back slightly, suckling the head and letting his mouth fill before swallowing greedily.

He had a moment to feel the hand loosening in his hair before he became aware of the relative silence around him.

"Uh, mate? Please tell me Malfoy isn't under the table right now..."

o.o.o

He was glad Severus had taught him such a good disillusionment spell. He was able to resettle Harry's robes and remain still under the table and no one was the wiser, suspicions aside. He lingered until the Hall was almost empty before crawling out and wandering to the open doors. His mind was whirling, uncertain what to think of the events of the past hour. He detoured to the kitchens to get some actual food, and of course that's where Harry found him.

"So, uh." Draco glanced up briefly before returning his gaze to his sandwich and tried to will away the color flooding his cheeks. "You, um." He looked up again, this time allowing an eyebrow to twitch at the equally red-faced Harry.

"Sucked your cock in the Great Hall?"

Harry's eyes went wide behind his glasses, and his gaze darted around the kitchen where the elves were pointedly ignoring him. He finally glanced back at Draco and coughed. "Um, yeah."

"Right, well then, glad to have established we're all on the same page..." He focused again on the sandwich and debated trying to take a bite.

Harry shuffled a bit further into the kitchen. "Thank you."

Draco laughed weakly as the tension in the kitchen ratcheted up to uncomfortable levels. "Yes, I suppose that is what one says after getting head."

Harry came forward again. "No, I mean... I'd like to return the favor. Sometime."

Draco blinked. "You want to suck me off at--"

Harry shook his head, his entire face seemingly close to bursting into flames. "No, I mean... Well, yes but...."

Draco's lips twisted into a half-smile. "You're really quite bad at this, you know."

"Oh Merlin, I know." Harry scrubbed his hand through his hair and offered Draco a small smile of his own. "I'd like to discuss this whole sucking each other off thing on a more permanent basis."

"Permanent?"

Harry now stood near enough to touch and he leaned forward, bracing an arm against the back of Draco's chair. "Permanent. And... some other things as well."

"Other things...?" Draco could feel his attention pulled from Harry's eyes down to his mouth, the chapped, full lips nearer than he thought they would ever be.

Harry's other arm came up slowly, until Draco was bracketed between them. "Mmhmm. I was thinking about starting now, actually, with something like this."

Harry swooped in and captured Draco's mouth in a sudden kiss, tongue sliding quickly into his mouth when Draco gasped and dropped his plate. He had only enough time for his brain to inform him he was actually snogging Harry Potter when a voice from the door interrupted them. "Oh Harry, Draco. I'm so glad to see you." They both turned to see Luna standing in the doorway, smiling dreamily at them while twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

He coughed, and Harry straightened slightly. "Uh, hello, Luna. Did you... need something?"

"Oh no, it's fine. The wrackspurts just told me to come in here and check on you both. After what happened at dinner, I mean. I wanted to make sure you were both not being silly. But you seem to be doing as you ought, so I need to go visit Seamus and collect my winnings. Congratulations to you both, by the way."

When she turned and wandered back out of the kitchen, Draco glanced up at Harry. "Wrackspurts?"

Harry shook his head. "Don't ask."


	3. Blind Date (for Tamlane)

**HP Harlequin - Blind Date  
for: Tamlane**

 

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this..."

"Shut up, Draco, and smile. I already told you, when we take the potion, we'll kiss quickly so we can see what we're doing at this thing."

"Pans--"

"Luna! Hello!" Pansy leaned forward and gave Luna a quick hug, dodging the Engorgio'd chrysanthemum tangled in the blonde hair over her ear.

"Pansy! Draco! Good of you to come, you're almost the last ones here..." Luna's voice was as dreamy as ever, and she seemed to be talking to the air somewhere above Draco's shoulder. "If you'd like to step inside, we've wine and butterbeer."

Draco kissed Luna briefly on the cheek in greeting as he hurried to follow Pansy into the open room filled with a dozen uncomfortably-chatting guests. House lines seemed to hold true, judging by the huddle of former Hufflepuffs standing in the corner, and not much mingling seemed to be occurring. He wondered briefly how the others had been bribed or blackmailed to come to this little party idea of Luna's when his thoughts were distracted by a loudly whispered argument behind him. Stepping out of the way, he saw Female Weasley dragging Potter into the room after her. Potter's face turned red and he abruptly stopped hissing in Weasley's ear when he saw the others in the room had turned to look at the newest arrivals.

"Everyone is here!" Luna's voice cut through the uncomfortable silence, and Draco was relieved to note he was not the only one to jump. She began wandering through the room, handing each guest a string of bottlecaps tied with twine. "These will be your Portkeys for the evening, so don't lose them. Putting them on also activates the Know-Me-Not that we're using. To go over the rules again, you'll be with whoever shares your first location for an hour. If you like who you're with, a kiss will cancel both charms and you're free to spend the rest of the evening however you like. If you don't, the Portkey will fire and mix up the couples again. This will continue each hour until midnight."

Draco turned to glare at Pansy, who looked entirely too smug. "You said potions were going to be used... One little kiss and we wouldn't have to put up with this secretive crap." He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Potter had turned at his whisper, but at the moment he couldn't care less if he was overheard.

"And you believed me? Oh, Draco..." Pansy's laughter caused more people in the room to turn and look, and Draco cursed the redness he knew was beginning to rise in his cheeks.

Before he could retort, Luna was in front of him, tying the twine around Draco's wrist. "Here you are, Draco. Portkey activates in two minutes."

He retreated, leaning against the wall behind him, and crossed his arms. He didn't care that he was sulking, though he did have a moment to wonder at the look exchanged between Pansy, Ginny, and Luna before he felt the familiar hooking sensation behind his navel.

xxx

When he stopped spinning, he found himself in a tangle of limbs with someone else and tipping rapidly to the floor where his head hit with a crack. His cursed response came out more as a wheeze as whoever had Portkeyed in with him landed across his chest.

"Shite! Sorry!" The figure above him was a mass of blurry and indistinct features and coloring, and the voice came across simply as "male" and "familiar." At least he scrambled up quickly enough, allowing Draco a deep breath. "You alright? I think the Portkeys had us set to land in the exact same spot..."

"I'll be alright. Give me a second, my head's still spinning." Draco took a moment to try and take stock of himself and his surroundings. He was on a stone floor, cold beginning to seep into his back and legs, with a merrily burning fireplace to his left, and his companion still kneeling to his right. His head hurt from where he'd smacked it, though he attributed most of the dizziness to the combination of the Portkey and the unexpected landing rather than injury. His arse, on the other hand, was killing him.

He sat up slowly, stifling a groan, and felt the warm hand of his companion on his shoulder offering support. "There's some chairs just behind you. Cushy. Can you stand? Probably better than the floor." He nodded in reply, and allowed himself to be pulled up and helped to one of the chairs. He collapsed with a grimace, immediately shifting to try and take the pressure off his poor, abused tailbone. "You sure you're alright?"

He glanced up at his companion, who was standing beside his chair, wand in hand though not pointed. He couldn't help his smirk, even though he knew it would be lost in the spell. "I don't know if we know each other well enough to be shooting Episky at each other's arses, but an extra cushioning charm wouldn't be amiss."

He was answered with a laugh and a wand flick, and settled deeper into the suddenly more comfortable chair. "Oh that's nice. That's very nice." As his temporary companion claimed the other seat, he looked around the room with more interest. It was fairly small. Grey stone walls were covered with colorful tapestries, and windows sat high above them. The two chairs were comfortable but unmatched; one a brown plaid, the other a blue stripe. The low table between them held a carafe of red wine and two empty glasses. Something about the room seemed very familiar, and he looked around again with a slight frown. "Are we in Hogwarts?"

His companion startled and glanced around quickly as well. "I... I think we are. How odd, I wonder how brupijum managed that."

He blinked. "Pardon? You mean asforits? Oh what the hell..."

"That's strange. Must be the Know-Me-Not. I thought it only obscured things directly, like my name or yours..."

He sighed. "It may be because everyone participating in this little... thing... is also under the spell? Oh this is stupid. What sort of blind date is this supposed to be? I can't say my name is vigiwip or that I work as a wotsuk. What in Merlin's name are we supposed to talk about for an hour?"

There was a pause while the other man shrugged and then poured the wine. Passing a glass to Draco, he replied. "Well, call me Green. Huh. At least made-up names work. I was just saying I wondered how... Chrysanthemum managed to set a Portkey to Hogwarts."

"Huh. I'll steal your example, thanks for that by the way. Call me Gray. And I don't know. I didn't know I was even coming to her little party until... er... Scarlet showed up at my door this evening."

"You and me both." Green stretched an arm out and clinked his glass gently against Draco's. "Was planning on a nice quiet evening in with some takeaway and the Falcons match on the wireless. I didn't even know mosatek... er... Chrysanthemum was having a party tonight."

"Ha. You're not missing much, Kestrels will wipe the pitch with them."

"Mmm. Not if Donovan can pull his head out of his arse and catch the snitch. Either way, whichever wins will fall to Pud U. Now that's a game I wouldn't want to miss."

"Puddlemere hasn't defeated the Kestrels in five seasons."

"Ah, but this year they've pulled Wood off reserves."

Draco laughed. "So you think Donovan will be so busy staring at Wood's arse he'll forget both his own and the snitch?"

"Well, I would!"

Straightening in his chair, Draco held up his glass. "To Oliver Wood. And my first wank."

"Here here."

xxx

The bottle of red was almost empty, and he and Green had fallen into a comfortable silence after a long and detailed analysis of the current Quidditch season when Draco thought to cast a Tempus. "Ten-thirty? Weren't these supposed to reactivate each hour?"

Green looked at Draco's Tempus, then cast his own. "Odd. That's what Chrysanthemum said, yes. I wonder if our Portkeys short-circuited since they dropped us on top of each other."

"Buggery. And of course there's no door here, and if we are at Hogwarts, there's no Apparating back, either."

"Can give it a shot either way..." Green stood and spun on his heel. "Or nothing could happen." He flopped back onto his chair, kicking Draco lightly in the shin when he started snickering. "I didn't see you trying to get out of here."

"Oh I'm too comfortable, you do quite the passable cushioning charm." He grinned, setting his glass back on the low table. Letting his voice drop to a purr, he continued. "Mmm... Could always try the other way of getting out."

"Let me guess, you want me to go over there and snog you because you're too comfortable to move?"

"And he's smart, too!"

"You're the spoilt, high-maintenance type, aren't you?" Green's voice radiated amusement and Draco found himself settling more comfortably in the chair, letting it wash over him.

"Mayhap a bit." He grinned across at Green before giving him his own nudge. "Why, not your type?"

Green gave a long-suffering sigh. "Maybe too much."

Silence fell again, broken only by the popping of the fire. Draco allowed the foot still resting against Green's to slide around the back of his calf and give a soft tug in his direction. "I notice that for all I'm apparently your type, I'm still sitting here unsnogged."

After several moments with no response to that, Draco sighed, pulling his foot back. The familiar, uncomfortable feeling of rejection started to fill him and he straightened in his chair, pulling himself out of his comfortable sprawl.

"You're certain you... want to know?"

"Want to know what?" He winced inwardly at how sharp his words sounded in response to Green's tentative question, but felt on the defensive as he hadn't in years.

"Oh, I don't know, the bloke you've been flirting in here with for the past two and a half hours?" Green's voice was tinged with impatience and frustration, and the situation began to feel entirely too familiar for Draco's liking.

"Well, if you're so desperate to get away, I was simply pointing out it was the way we'd been told would work and hadn't tried yet. I apologize for offending your delicate sensibilities with my flirting. After all, they'll look for us eventually."

"Bwatrip-- Grey, that's not what I meant, and you know it."

The blur of syllables made him cringe in his seat. If Green had figured out who he was, had tried to say his name only to have it garbled by the spell, he was certain of Green's identity as well. Everything clicked into place, from the earliest conversation about Wood, to the ever-present feeling of rejection.

"No. I don't." He pushed himself up out of the chair and limped to the fire, cursing quietly when the bruises that had stiffened up in the hours of comfortable conversation flared to life once again.

He stiffened, but managed to refrain from actually jumping in surprise when he felt Potter's hand gently grasp his shoulder, tugging him around until he was facing the blurry figure standing much closer than expected. "I meant, did you want to know that it was me..."

Draco swallowed as Potter's other hand lifted, lightly tracing his jaw and cheek while his fingers threaded into Draco's hair. His eyelids drooped and he leaned forward, caught in the inexplicable gravity that had always existed between them. He allowed his lips to brush lightly against Potter's once, twice, before Potter let out a groan and pushed him back into the mantel, mouth opening and tongue tracing his lips.

"Fuck, Draco..." He opened his eyes as he gulped a breath and found himself caught in Potter's bottle-green gaze. Then his eyes closed again as Potter-- Harry pushed him again, grinding against him as his tongue filled his mouth.

This time it was pain that caused him to push Harry back and breathe. "Later. The wall and floor are hard, and my arse is sore enough for now, thank you."

Harry just laughed.

xxx

"Well, that worked." Pansy took a sip of the fluorescent pink cocktail in her hand as she leaned over the scrying mirror on Luna's dining room table.

"Finally. It only took two hours of Quidditch talk to get there." Ginny leaned back in her own chair, stretching the knots out of her back gained by hours leaning over the mirror. "Men..."

"I should maybe go up there and show them how to find the door..." Luna was sitting cross-legged on her dining table, braiding more bottlecaps into her hair. "I doubt they'll want to stay in the tower all night; it's full of Nargles and there's no bed."

"That was a pretty detailed illusion you set up before we arrived. Aren't you tired?" Ginny eyed Luna with concern, expression growing more worried at Luna's shrugged response.

"Eh, tomorrow's soon enough. They look like they're just fine entertaining themselves for the moment." One of Pansy's scarlet nails tapped the mirror, her expression avid. Both Ginny and Luna turned and peered in as well.

"Oh dear, I'm going to have to replace that chair, won't I?"


	4. For the Department of Wizarding Standards (For Omi_Ohmy and Oakstone730)

Title: For The Department of Wizarding Standards (for Omi_Ohmy and Oakstone 730)  
Summary: It's time for the Decennial Survey of All British Wizarding Standards. Heroes included.  
Rating: P for painful. er, I mean, PG-ish for implication? Totally not smutty.  
Warnings: A fluffy, silly, dialogue-fic filled with Draco!logic. Oh, and it's unbeta'd.

 

"Er, yes?"  
"Good morning, Potter."  
"Malfoy? What are you--"  
"I'm here on behalf of the Undersecretary to the Secretary to the Department of Wizarding Standards."  
"What? You work for Percy?"  
"He is the Undersecretary to the Secretary to the Department of Wizarding Standards, yes. Do keep up."  
"Alright..."  
"It's time for the Decennial Survey of All British Wizarding Standards."  
"The what?"  
"The Decennial Survey of All British Wizarding Standards. I don't remember you being quite this slow in school."  
"Malfoy!"  
"What?"  
"It's six in the fucking morning. Why are you ringing my bell at six in the morning?"  
"I told you, I'm here on behalf of the Undersec--"  
"Yes I got that part. Why are you here?"  
"I need to do a survey."  
"A survey on what?"  
"Heroes."  
"What?!"  
"Heroes, Potter. Hmm... I should be taking notes on this. Apparently heroes are unable to do more than repeat what they are told until after... well, sometime after six-fifteen, at least."  
"Give me that!"  
"Hey! That's my quill! Well. That wasn't very nice."  
***  
"WHAT?!"  
"I'm here on behalf--"  
"You said that thirty minutes ago when you rang the first time."  
"Yes, well, I had reason to believe you would need it repeated again."  
"Malfoy... Why are you back?"  
"I need to do a survey."  
"But you left."  
"I needed a new quill. You stole my last one."  
"You're not going to go away, are you?"  
"I told you, I need to do a survey."  
"Oh heroes, yes you said. What does that even mean?"  
"Do you really want to do this out here?"  
"I'm not going to ask you into my house!"  
"Surprising, but if you insist..."  
"Oh my god! What are you doing?"  
"I am trying to take a... hold still!"  
"Get that measuring tape away from me!"  
"We need standardized standards, Potter! How else do you think we get them?"  
"Of my arse?!"  
"Of course! The last time we got data was ten years ago. You were practically pre-pubescent."  
"Oh god, come in, come in."  
"Thank you."  
"Why do you need to measure my arse?"  
"We need measurements to use to create the British Wizarding Hero Standard."  
"But why my arse?"  
"I need your cock, too."


	5. Oh Merlin (for Capitu)

Title: Oh Merlin (for Capitu)  
Summary: Firewhisky. He remembers that much.  
Warnings: unbeta'd. Fail!porn. hungover!Draco!logic. Also silly (not sure why these are all going silly, I'm much better with angst)

 

When Draco opened his eyes, the darkness was a surprise and he fought to keep the panic at bay. His head was pounding, though the feeling was more reminiscent of a hangover than of any injury. He was lying on his back, and the feeling of upholstered cushioning against his arm told him he was likely on a couch.

Or in the corner of a very padded room. Which made no sense, so a couch it was.

Then he realized he was naked.

He assumed it took him that long to come to that due to the strangeness of the situation. Not because being naked in strange places was at all usual. Because it wasn't. He liked to keep his nakedness to comfortable and familiar places. So, hungover, naked, flat on his back and on a couch. And in the dark, which he was beginning to suspect was due more to Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder than any lack of sun.

Pushing himself up into a seated position, because he figured there was a bit more propriety in naked-and-sitting-on-a-couch than in naked-and-lying-on-a-couch, he groaned as his head seemed to consider detaching from the rest of his body and his stomach started doing it's own waltz without him. He took a moment to breathe, digging his toes into the plush carpeting, and attempted to remember how he got to... wherever he was.

Firewhisky. He remembered that much. The party at the Leaky to celebrate Robards' retirement turning into some strange competition where the Auror Corps each tried to outdrink themselves. Though why the Auror Corps thought that getting themselves all too shit-faced to see straight, he still wasn't up on. Though it had seemed a much better idea at the time. He had been sitting at a table drinking with.... With....

Damn his stupid low alcohol tolerance.

His train of thought was effectively derailed by the feeling of a warm, dry hand around his cock. It took his hungover brain a moment to realize that both his hands were gripping the couch cushions and he let out a very manly protest, which sounded nothing at all like an "eep!" as the hand slowly began to wank him.

"What are you doing?" He was pleased that his voice came out in the proper register that time. The hand stopped, and how could a hand on his prick so explicitly point out what a stupid question that was?

He sighed, granting the point to the hand which resumed its slow rub, and Merlin even if his head pounded and his stomach was threatening rebellion, his cock was standing up and taking notice.

"Traitor." And he deserved the chuckle coming out of the darkness, talking to his prick like that, but "My head hurts and I think I'm about to vomit. I'm hardly at my best."

He heard a sigh, and was disappointed when the hand that had been teasing him vanishes. A moment later, he feels the nudge of cool glass against his arm, and takes the familiar wax-capped vial. "Oh Merlin, I think I love you." He cracked the cap and downed the hangover potion in a single go, trying to ignore the overwhelming taste of peppermint and eucalyptus that burned the back of his tongue and attacked his sinuses as he swallowed.

He was distracted by large, hot hands gripping his hips and dragging his arse closer to the edge of the couch, and he wiggled at the feeling of a face nuzzling his bollocks. The pounding in his head faded, and the rolling nausea was quickly overwhelmed by the tingle of anticipation as the general sensation of touch disappeared, only to be replaced by sudden wet suction as a mouth descended on his mostly-hard cock.

Formerly mostly-hard. "Fuck!" The warm tongue laving the underside of his cock nearly did him in right there, and he squeaked when the hot wetness slid up, sucking harder.

And laughed at him, the bastard. He smacked the top of the head, only to lose the heat entirely when the mouth pulled off and one of the hands pinched his thigh. "Hey!" He sat up, rubbing the spot and frowning sharply into the darkness. Cursed darkness, ruining his best glares and "Oh Merlin." The mouth was back, suckling hard on the head and tongue flicking over the slit and "Oh Merlin," he knew what that did to him the fucking tease, and "Oh Merlin," the hands were off his hips, squeezing his bollocks, and "Fuck!"

He collapsed back on the couch, too content after his orgasm to feel anything but happily boneless. He felt a shoulder jostle against his knee before a weight settled on the seat beside him.

"You're always so easy when you're drunk. I told you that you wouldn't last five minutes." Potter's voice was unbearably smug. Riding high on afterglow, he couldn't be arsed to respond to it.

"Ow! You've got sharp elbows!"

Well, maybe a little arsed.


	6. The Slytherin Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written as a response to HD_Writer's Welcome Back to Hogwarts challenge on LJ. Fills both: A H/D story or art with either Ron, Blaise, Hermione, or Pansy AND A H/D story from the POV of neither Harry nor Draco.

Were she to be asked, Pansy would describe herself as the perfect Slytherin. Not only for the official reasons: cunning, ambitious, loyal to herself first and foremost; but also for all the unofficial ones. Yes, she was a pureblood, trained as one of a long line of purebloods to assist in her husband's machinations, forwarding his goals through judicious use of charms and Charms. 

But even perfect Slytherins had friends, and her friendship with Draco left her feeling rather smugly satisfied about the betrothal their parents had drawn up when they were still in nappies. It wasn't binding, merely a precaution against them not finding more desirable prospects. They weren't in love, but they didn't need to be; they would be best friends and partners, raise more pureblood children while having discreet affairs on the side.

It was the Slytherin way.

Which was why she had to draw on all her Slytherin control to keep her expression serene while Draco was… canoodling… with Harry-Bloody-Potter on the overstuffed sofa in the 8th year common room.

She had no idea what Potter was up to, with his scruffy hair and crooked glasses, but whatever he'd done to Draco, she was determined to counter it. She'd checked Draco for Charms, first. He hadn't been _Confunded_ , and the only thing accomplished by her three subtle _Finites_ was the failing of his hair charm, leaving his hair flopping into his face in the middle of dinner and him in a snit for the rest of the evening. Next, she'd checked him for potions. It was harder; he didn't show any of the normal signs of Amortentia. He still made regular cracks about Potter's scuffed trainers and oversized clothes, but he _was_ hopelessly smitten, as said comments seemed to be some sort of… of… _foreplay_ based on the expression on his face when he did it.

There were other love potions, however. The Weasley store sold a half dozen of varying strength from _slightly infatuated_ to _quickie under the Quidditch stands_ , but none of them lasted for more than a few hours. Even if Potter was dosing him every meal, it would wear off in Draco's sleep.

And yet, there was Draco, practically sitting _in Potter's lap_ positively twitterpated.

She took a quick glance around the common room, making certain that everyone was distracted, before allowing herself an eyeroll. Maybe she was Slytherin enough to mark him up for lost. Draco had always been a bit too eager to let his emotions get the better of him, and Potter had always been the best at needling them to the surface. 

Potter was almost _Slytherin_ in the way he always knew which buttons to push to send Draco off in a bout of Gryffindor-ish rage.

She didn't want to continue that thought, however. If Potter and Draco had been in the same House for seven years, she would probably have seen a lot more of the two of them… working out their differences. And if she never had to walk into the common room and see Potter's bare arse again, it would be too soon.

No, better to focus on herself. The Slytherin way. The politics and the charm and the husband and the money and the…

"Pans!"

She blinked up at Theo, who was peering down at her though his own wireframed glasses (and how could Theo always manage to keep his glasses straight when Potter never could?) a hint of amusement in his narrow face.

"What?"

Theo was smirking now, and she frowned fiercely at him for it. "Just wondering if you were finished staring AKs into Potter."

"I was _not_!"

He patted her on her head, smirk growing into something much more obviously amused when she swatted at him for it. He'd always treated her like a younger sister, and she hated it. "Sure you weren't. If you could do wandless, he'd be nothing but a smoking pile of ash. Have you finished the translation for Professor Babbling yet?"

"Ugh. I was going to see if I could copy off Boot again."

Theo shook his head and tsked quietly. "I was thinking about loaning you my notes…."

Pansy frowned, eyeing Theo. "Why? What's in it for you?"

She was almost as surprised by the faint hint of pink staining his cheeks as she was by his words: "You'll come with me to Hogsmeade next weekend."

Oh. _Oh._ She may have blushed a bit herself, but luckily Theo didn't comment. "That would be lovely. Thank you."

Pansy Nott sounded better than Pansy Malfoy, anyway.


	7. Not the One in the Dress (for capitu and iwao)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of high heeled shoes, some auror robes, and a back-alley blowjob.
> 
> For capitu & iwao for REASONS

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."   
  
Draco's voice was tight, sounding prim and fussy in a way that made Harry's jaw clench. "Shut up, you git. This was your idea."  
  
"My..? I told Robards to send you and  _Weasley_  on this thing."  
  
"What, only fun if you're not the one in the dress?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Harry sighed; he wanted nothing more than to rub the ache in his head away, but was certain that would ruin the makeup on his polyjuiced face. "Yeah, well, so sorry Hermione went into labor and ruined your fun. Now put on your fucking shoes back on, and let's get this over with."  
  
Draco sighed from his position in the stall, but strapped the exceedingly tall shoes onto his small feet. "Fine. But you owe me."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, get out there."  
  
Draco muttered again, too quiet this time for Harry to make out any words, before he smoothed down the tight skirt and ran carefully manicured fingers through his long brown hair, frowning into the mirror. "Fine. But if that bloody wanker Forrest grabs at my breasts again, I won't be held responsible for my actions."  
  
"Noted. Now would you  _please_  get your arse in gear?"  
  
The only response was the angry sound of Draco's shoes on the tiled floor.  
  


-:- -:- -:-

  
  
"I hate you, Potter."  
  
"Back to Potter, am I?"  
  
"Oh fuck off. My feet are killing me."  
  
"Of course, you let the polyjuice wear off before you changed out of those shoes." Harry knew he should at least make an  _effort_  to seem sympathetic, but he was too glad this particular case was over.  
  
And also glad to be out of the sensible pantsuit he'd borrowed from Hermione's pre-pregnancy wardrobe to go with the polyjuice. The woolen robes of the auror force were much more comfortable, if baggy around the shoulders as he waited for his own polyjuice to fade.  
  
He didn't have time to be glad for long, however, as the familiar nauseating feeling of polyjuice wearing off hit him, and he recovered just in time to see Draco hefting the shoe threateningly in his direction.  
  
"Careful, I promised Hannah to get those back to her in one piece."  
  
"Don't care about Hannah, anyone who wears these things can't be human." Draco's voice was petulant, but at least he lowered the shoe.  
  
"Don't give me that; you love Hannah."  
  
"I love Hannah's pies. And her pulls of lager. I do  _not_  love her fashion choices."  
  
"Mm-hmm." Harry grabbed Draco's arm and tugged him down the alley toward the nearest apparition point. "So we'll get you some of that lager, return her shoes, and save the paperwork until tomorrow."  
  
"Sod the paperwork."  
  
"That's the spirit."  
  
And he would have been more surprised when Draco shoved him back into the dirty brick of the alley, but he'd been waiting for Draco to break out from his murderous daze. "You owe me, Potter, and don't think a quick drink and a few hours off paperwork is going to let you off."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it." He knew his grin was more smug than it needed to be, but he relished the color frustration lent to Draco's pale features.  
  
"You  _owe_  me."  
  
"Yes, you said that."  
  
Draco made a noise of frustration deep in his throat before he leaned into Harry, mouth hard against his. And this was what Harry was waiting for, after watching Draco totter around wearing Hannah's body, flirting with the convention-goers as Harry remained invisible in the background behind his clipboard and hotel badge and the rest of the Auror Corps were busy behind the scenes gathering evidence of the potions smuggling hiding behind Muggle pharmaceuticals.  
  
This was what he was waiting for, with each grope, each bad pass, each knot of tension in Draco's back and shoulders. He was waiting for the moment Draco would snap, lose the control he was so good at hiding behind. Waiting for when he would stop caring about the shouldn'ts, the what-if-they-find-outs.  
  
Because Draco, tense, pale, skinny, twitchy Draco, was a thing of beauty when pushed beyond simply upset. And Harry's cock had filled as soon as Robards had told him that Draco would be his partner in this bust.  
  
"On your knees, Potter." The hitch in Draco's voice as he tried to spit out the 'Potter' as he had all through Hogwarts, but failed miserably caused a new surge of adrenaline through Harry's veins, and he smirked before twisting his foot around Draco's ankle and using the momentum to reverse their positions.  
  
He gave a small smile before dropping to his knees, sliding Draco's woolen robes apart and nuzzling into the bulge behind his trousers. He heard the familiar sound of Draco's stifled keening moan as he opened his mouth and exhaled a hot breath against the light wool. He peeked up at Draco as he swiftly worked the buttons, catching and holding eye contact, savoring the shocked expression Draco always seemed to wear even when he prompted the encounter.  
  
Then he finally worked Draco's trousers open and freed his hard cock, watching as Draco's head thumped back against the brick until the only detail of his face visible was the underside of his pointy chin.  
  
"Draco." Harry ran his thumb against the crown, teasing the foreskin as he waited for Draco to look at him. "Draco!" And when Draco's head snapped up, and he looked down his chest at Harry kneeling in the dirty alley, only then did Harry take the head into his mouth and suckle gently. Draco made a strangled sound as his hips jerked forward, and Harry let them, let the cock slide into his mouth with a helpless, uncoordinated thrust.  
  
"Fuck." Draco's word was a hiss through clenched teeth and Harry smirked up at him. "Fuck. Fuck fuck." Then Draco thrust again, more slowly, gathering his shreds of control about him in a way Harry did not like. He knew there were two ways this could go, Draco was gathering himself even now, fucking Harry's mouth, but holding back once more. It would lead to a perfectly satisfying blow job, but it was not what Harry was wanting.   
  
Why have just alright when he could have Draco shattered before him?  
  
So he reached around, each hand grabbing on to Draco's hips in a grip that would likely leave bruises, and opened his throat, swallowing Draco's length and holding him there, unable to move. The sound Draco made at that was  _brilliant_ and he held his gaze, refusing to blink even as his eyes watered and his lungs protested the false panic of his obstructed throat.  
  
He held him like that, counting each pounding beat of his heart, until Draco finally let out a breathless "Harry, please."  
  
Harry slid back, gasping for air before dropping again, setting a brutal pace he knew he would feel for some time to come. He felt Draco's fingers thread into his hair, fingers clenching with each downstroke and causing his eyes to water even more. He concentrated on his own hands, clenched tightly on Draco's hips, holding him still as he twitched and attempted to thrust, his movements uncoordinated and helpless, and on keeping his mouth tight on Draco's cock as it slid again and again across his tongue.  
  
He could tell Draco was getting close, his movements now with purpose, growing more rhythmic, and Harry sacrificed depth for more suction, letting the head of Draco's cock brush against the inside of his cheek instead of the back of his throat. Draco gave another strangled cry as his cock began to twitch, filling Harry's mouth with spurt after spurt of come.  
  
When Draco attempted to pull away, Harry let him, carefully buttoning his trousers around the still-sensitive cock. He stood, resettling Draco's clothing and smiled again. "What was that about my owing you, then?" He let his expression go darker, more avid as Draco's heaving breath hitched at the hoarse burr in Harry's voice. "Would you say I'm now paid?"  
  
He watched as Draco attempted to gather himself, to pull the shreds of Malfoy around himself. "Of course, paid in full."  
  
"Mmm. Good. Now, about my little problem."  
  
Draco's eyelashes fluttered closed as Harry pressed his painfully-hard erection against Draco's hip. "Yes. I… I seem to have my evening free."  
  
"Good. To mine, then?" He leaned in, nipping lightly on the tendon stretched taught along Draco's neck. At Draco's whimper, he pulled him into a spin and apparated away.


	8. Yearning (for Iwao -- Happy Birthday!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Title:** Yearning  
>  **Author:** eidheann_writes  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Word Count:** ~1300  
>  **Summary:** Harry's been gone two weeks, and it's driving Draco a little bit mental.  
>  **Warnings:** A bit of rimming. And sex. That's really all there is to this *hides*  
>  **Disclaimer:** They're not mine. I'm just having fun. (So are they.)  
>  **A/N:** HAPPY BIRTHDAY iwao! I was trying to think of what to do for you, and I couldn't come up with a better idea than porn. (I AM SO PREDICTABLE.) Your lovely artwork [Yearning](http://iwao.livejournal.com/6359.html) was my inspiration because Draco's face (and arse) just were begging for it. heh. heheh. *cough* ahem! I LOVE YOU! Thank you to capitu for the look-over. ♥

Draco came awake to the feeling of warmth and light. He opened his eyes and sighed, clutching the pillow underneath him ever tighter. His bedroom glowed in the sun of the summer morning, and his pillow invited him to return to sleep. He let his eyes close, his arm stretching across the bed by habit, only to come awake to the feeling of cool sheets beside him.

He ran a hand over the pillow. Harry had been gone almost two weeks now. Gone on a case he wasn't able to talk about. Gone except for the weekly notes that arrived in the Ministry bundle and were handed over on Fridays.

The entire situation was shit, but his friends didn't seem to care for his opinion. They always gave him that sodding long-suffering look and teased him for being an Auror-wife.

He grumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows to punch his pillow into a more comfortable shape before flopping down again. The movement brought attention to the other thing that had woken him up, and he sighed, rocking his hips into the bed a couple of times, feeling the friction of the sheets against his erect cock.

Something else he was tired of having to take care of himself.

He glanced over at the nightstand, pondering his wand briefly before the photo caught his attention. He was flushed and laughing, clinging to Harry's back like a monkey, in the garden behind the house. They had just moved in, and were both somewhere in that in-between place: more than tipsy but not quite drunk, and Granger had caught them with the camera.

It was a good picture, Harry's laugh warmed him and loosened him whenever he saw it, and his cock twitched beneath him.

Fuck, he was just going to have to deal with the sodding erection or he'd never get back to sleep. He gave another rock of his hips, burying his face in the pillow to stifle his groan. It felt good, and he was torn between turning over and taking his time or just getting rid of it and going back to sleep.

That it was even a question made him groan again, this time at himself. Two weeks without Harry had to be driving him mental.

"Fuck it," he sighed. He was not moping his way into a bad wank just because Harry wasn't here. He canted up his knees and reached under himself to grasp his cock, playing with the foreskin briefly before sliding it down to run his thumb along the head.

He sighed, his back dipping, relaxing into bed. He reached back, squeezing his bollocks gently before sliding back along his cock.

He'd tugged it twice, not even trying for a rhythm yet when he heard a noise from the door. He shot up, scrambling for his wand, before he saw Harry standing in the doorway, a gobsmacked expression on his face. He was wearing his scarlet Auror robes open in the front, showing the grey shirt and jeans underneath, and Draco dropped his arm with a sigh. "Harry."

"No, roll back over." Harry's voice was hoarse, and his eyes wandered avidly over Draco's skin. "Do you have any idea how it feels to open the door and have your arse be the first thing I see after these past two weeks?"

Draco gave a smirk. "I was fine taking care of myself without you, as you saw."

"I wasn't." And Harry's honesty always had a way of hitting him, as if it was a physical force, and all desire to tease vanished.

Instead, he rolled back over and listened to the sounds of Harry's footsteps against the warm wood floor as he approached the bed. "No, back on your knees."

Draco moaned, turning to watch as Harry hurriedly stripped out of his clothes. He could smell Harry's sweat, and now that he was closer, see it beading along his neck and the damp curl of his hair. "In a hurry?"

"Fuck, yeah." The bed settled as Harry crawled in behind him, hands sliding down Draco's back to clutch at the globes of his arse. "God. Draco."

And the feeling of his hands, kneading, pulling, the coolness of air against his crack as Harry rolled the flesh in his hands caused Draco's bollocks to draw up. He reached back, grasping Harry's wrist and stilling the movement. "Are you going to do anything back there or are you just—"

And his words cut off in a squeak as the air against him was suddenly warm and humid, quickly followed by the wetness of Harry's tongue. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck." Harry chuckled, his tongue wide and wet, following his crack again and again. He arched back, pressing tighter against the tease and was rewarded when Harry's attention focused, circling his hole in small ticklish licks.

"Fuck-- you fucking tease." It was good, but Draco wanted more. He reached a clumsy hand for his wand and pointed it vaguely behind him. "You better take care of that or I'm going to _Incarcerous_ you to the bed, take care of myself, and leave you to wank to the memory later."

He heard a groan behind him at that, but was quickly distracted by the feeling of Harry's tongue pressing firmly against his hole. He pressed back into the feeling, hands clutching the pillow underneath him at the small breach. He was gasping, feeling as though his skin was on fire, his entire world focused on where Harry grasped him, holding him apart to drive his tongue inside again and again and again.

Draco reached underneath himself, grabbing his cock again, tugging it frantically. He was close-- _so very close_ \-- when Harry stopped. He whimpered, and then Harry's tongue was replaced by a finger. His breath caught at the friction of it, and Harry gave a quiet _Accio_. Another moment and the finger was withdrawn, replaced with another, dripping with slick.

Harry pressed against his back, a second finger sliding in beside the first, and showered kisses along his shoulders. Draco ground back against the fingers until Harry removed them entirely and pulling Draco back to impale himself on Harry's cock.

As Harry pulled him back farther until he was sitting on Harry's lap, as he held Draco tightly in his arms, as Harry's hands only wandered just enough to toy with his nipples without releasing their hold, he sighed and let himself go, riding the cock within him.

This is what he'd spent the past weeks without. This is what he'd missed. It wasn't the slide of skin against skin, or the burn where he was stretched around Harry's cock. It wasn't the reverse, when Harry climbed onto his lap half-drunk and horny, or wound Draco up until he was fucking Harry's face just to shut him up.

It was Harry's arms, warm, strong around him. Holding him close as if he were something precious. Harry's hands touching him, as if the feeling of Draco's skin was sweeter than the finest silk, as if Harry couldn't exist without him.

It was _that_ , more than the fingers on his nipples, the hand on his cock, the feeling of Harry buried deep within him, that caused him to tighten in release. He heard Harry groan before he grasped Draco's hips, holding him tight against him as he gave a few more shaky thrusts.

He felt Harry's breath on his neck before the hands loosened and Harry helped him slide slowly off his softening cock. He was messy, covered in ejaculate and sweat, but he plopped down onto the bed anyway, peering up at Harry.

"Somewhere you need to be?"

Harry sat there a moment, smiling down at him. "No, I thought I'd defer to you on that one."

Draco smiled. "I was thinking about spending the morning in bed. I'm due a lie-in."

Harry's smile grew. "A lie-in sounds great."

"And after that, I was thinking a shower. And maybe brunch. Or tea."

"Busy day."

Draco leered. "Mmm. I hope so."


End file.
